


As Real As Any Pain

by deerstepsteps (TallDarkHorse)



Category: Sucker Punch (2011)
Genre: (only barely implied in as few words as possible), Backstory, Gen, Headcanon, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, Reimagining, Sucker Punch - Freeform, headcanon backstories, suckerpunch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-29 05:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3883879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TallDarkHorse/pseuds/deerstepsteps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Close your eyes, open your mind, and visualize the journey as told through each warrior who experienced it. With a toggling view of each woman as the plot progresses, you'll experience deepened responses, elaborated backstories, and the formation of bonds that critics somehow missed. You will be unprepared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Babydoll

They found me.

It was probably the first place anyone would look, but I didn't have anywhere else to go. Her headstone was as far as I could make it. With my sister's blood drying on my fingertips, stumbling around in the darkness of the thunderstorm, I couldn't think; I just let my feet carry me. I knelt down and told my mother what had happened. How I was finally able to get her to sleep, and the waves of anger from his vengeful silhouette, his face under my fingernails, the lock, the climb, the determination to keep her safe from that terrible man. The unfamiliar weight of the gun and no comprehension of how things went so terribly wrong.

By the time the officer's lights found me, I had grown silent. I had run out of things to confess and tears to cry. Were they there to help? How had they known I needed it? But soon it was clear to me that they were not on my side. Their whispers were unwelcoming, and he was with them, led them to me. They wrapped me in blankets and injected me with something to help me rest. I slept too deeply. It was as if I blinked and I was somewhere else, with men in crisp uniforms pulling me from a car. I was disoriented and they didn't give me time to adjust, so I resisted, but I was exhausted, and it was easy for them to grip my elbows and hauled me around.

I turned to figure out where I was and I saw my stepfather and a looming building, neither of which felt safe. He led the way, further confirming that this was not a place I wanted to be. The sign identified it as Lennox House, "for the mentally insane." The horror of the realization soured the taste in my mouth. How could they think that was me?

The building was dark and neglected, with heavy doors and nervous families in waiting rooms. Once I knew they would not be letting me go tonight, I refocused on taking in as much as possible. _They can't keep me here if I can remember the way out,_ I had thought, before I realized how many cage doors we would go through.

A man at the end of a hallway had his arms folded. He was shorter than the rest and his stance seemed an attempt to make up for that. I didn't like the way he spoke--his expressions seemed rehearsed and insincere. He stared me down and I didn't look away, but I was too weary to be defiant. I felt bleak. Then he spoke over me with my stepfather, never addressing me or acting as though he even saw me again. To him, for that conversation, I didn't exist.

He spoke reassuringly to my stepfather (as if he was the one who needed it) and led us on a brief tour, to a room called the "theater." It was wide open like a cafeteria, and a carved angel bust was fixed above a stage, but this room had also fallen into disrepair. Everyone inside was grim and broken. Several girls were clothed in blue-gray dresses, drab and to the knee, and they all looked empty from the heart up. A fight broke out and was forcefully shut down. I had never seen a place like this. 

These girls were out of hope.

I heard the worker mention one Doctor Gorski, mockingly. He snided about Polish therapy and fear reawakened in me; what would that involve? But he didn't leave room for wonder as he described it, and his language made me flinch. "It's really quite a show," he muttered, "watching them act out who touched them or beat them or whatever." No respect for the hells they been through…No wonder they all looked this way. A bedraggled woman on the stage looked towards me with hate-filled eyes, brimming with tears, eyebrows furrowed. I took no offense, guessing that what made her so angry was rooted deeply and had nothing to do with me. I thought towards her as hard as I could, _I know what you feel. I've been there, too._

An older woman, primly dressed and chin held high, stepped towards the stage and addressed the crying girl. I couldn't hear her very clearly at first, but I could tell she spoke with an accent, and with kindness. Then she set up a music player and turned it on, observing the girl's reactions. I did, too. The song seemed to unwind some of her tensions. She sighed.

But as I watched her, the conversation between the two men continued behind me, and I listened as they spoke about money, a doctor called “the High Roller” who performs lobotomies, and not caring "what you did to this girl." I shuddered and looked down, ashamed of the past I had to keep even without description. My stepfather reacted sharply to a couple of points in the discussion, and both times the worker assuaged him. I had heard enough. I knew well enough what a lobotomy was, how it made mindless machines out of people, so I marked the deadline for myself. Five days.

I had five days left to replay any memories, my only remaining possessions, before they too would be taken from me.

The proprietor called over the young woman from the stage to show me around, but she protested, implying she was busy. Immediately at my back I felt a tension, an air of authority about to squelch defiance, but she quickly offered an alternative. "Let my sister take her." And again I was introduced to another new face, names becoming a blur. The sister bounded over, responding to the name "Rocket." "Show her around, will ya, sis?"

"Alright, come on. Let's go," she said, nodding towards an area that disappeared beyond the stage. I stood stiffly, not wanting to go any further into this building, not wanting to meet any more people like the man they called Blue behind me. The imbalance of power was enough to make me tremble, and I daresay the man wielded that power gladly. "Don’t worry, I don't bite very hard."

My stepfather said loudly and pseudo-affectionately, "Goodbye, my dear," and I had almost forgotten that this would probably be the last I saw of him, but his hand on my shoulder reminded me. I had much to make up for, and with a pile of uniformed clothes in my arms, I had nothing else to use but anger and my body. So I rolled my tongue through my teeth and spat clear at his face.

He cursed me and Blue stepped in to satiate him like a salesman to a customer, while Rocket led me away laughing. Once we rounded a corner, her laugh trailed off to a sigh, and she looked back at me admiringly. "You're gonna be okay." My shoulders eased at her friendliness, relief washing over me to have someone who believed I did the right thing after an evening of being doubted. She asked me staggeringly personal questions, with no reservation, and to keep from dwelling too deeply on my thoughts I looked away. I noticed the gaudiness of the hallway we were walking through, dim lighting and hideous wallpaper, and lewd glances from the cook and one lighter-flicking orderly in particular. So many people to watch out for here. Was anyone trustworthy?

Rocket led me through routines and locations, namely that we all took turns with chores but "new girls get the bathrooms," apologetically. The closet where the supplies were kept doubled as a lockaway room for punishments, which sounded enclosed enough to be horrible. The walls were thickly cushioned and the shelves and sink meant there was very little room.

We made our way to a wide dance studio where the women were moving with slightly more vigor than they had been in the theater. Perhaps this was because they were here almost unguarded and unhindered. I didn't feel much like exercising but Rocket led me over to the barre, where I recognized her sister standing tall, and two other girls keeping close enough to be familiar. I was introduced to the others as Amber, Blondie, and the commanding Sweet Pea, who stared me down, almost as if I was a threat. She must be the older sister, then, or at least feel like it. I used to do the same.

Amber waved at me with a sweet smile, but Blondie's indifferent shrug and Sweet Pea's protectiveness blocked the way, and I didn't have the energy to pass through their barrier. I stood by Rocket while she stretched and explained the way things worked around here. I was only half-listening. She was so welcoming to me already, trying to make me feel like one of the group, but I wasn't prepared to make this home. I wouldn't even have time to get used to it before the "High Roller" came. She had no idea about that, or she didn't act like she did, and if Sweet Pea said anything to anyone else, they gave no indication. The rest of the women in the large room stood off even more.

Rocket finished off her casual explanation with, "And the men come and watch us perform, and if they like what they see, well…That's…why we dance." I don't know how she made it sound so normal. Afterwards she directed me towards my first chores. I spent the rest of the day submerging myself in work and quaking every time I thought of the night before. Images splashed through my mind without warning. I was tired. Tired of thinking of it, tired of being afraid, tired of having nowhere to rest. At nightfall we were corralled into a room with rows of beds, where I was given a space near the other women I had met with varying warmth, and I tried to close my eyes but they acted like a curtain around a movie theater screen. Closing them only framed the horrible pictures I had been trying to avoid all day, coupled with the hungry way Blue looked at all of us, the mindless way the girls moved about their activities, the bars on the windows and the locked gates and the weight of the accident which brought me here. It was all too much to sleep through.

I rolled out of the bed slowly to keep from waking the others with creaky springs, padded to the open bathroom, and paced. There was enough moonlight pouring in the windows to see well, but I didn't recognize myself in the mirror. I pressed my back against the wall and focused on the cool tile. Just breathe. Just breathe. But I was still hyperventilating, hands threaded over my mouth to keep from crying, and I was sucking in large gasps of air that finally I just decided to let go. Everyone else was dreaming. No one would have to know. This was just me and the night sky.

Grief knocked me off my feet most of all. The memory of when it was just mother, my sister, and me now seemed like an invention of my mind. It had been wonderful, and I didn’t even care that money was tight. I had to mature then, had to help take care of her, but we were close and loving. I took my responsibility with determination. And when Mother met the man and told me he was going to be our stepfather, I tried desperately to talk her out of it. I was selfish, because she deserved to be happy…but something wasn't right about him. He didn't adore her; he possessed her. Added us all to his list of accomplishments. She kept smiling through everything, telling me this would help us be free again, would help us live.

Part of me thinks she knew she was sick.

She must've been trying to secure us a future. She had the house to give us, the large beautiful home she had inherited from her own parents, but if she had passed away when we were still both kids, we would have been sent off to an orphanage. Or separate ones. I hear that happens sometimes. In this way we were able to stay together, be fed, not have to worry about money or managing finances at a young age. But she was sick for so long…I don't think she pictured this. Not at all.

Watching her fade away for months, taking its toll on my sibling, and seeing both of their bodies lifeless within days absolutely shattered me. Now in my solitude, it replayed endlessly.

I was still trying to be quiet on the floor of the bathroom. I must not have been quiet enough, because Rocket stepped through the doorway. I didn't hear her, but I saw her out of the corner of my eye, and quieted down right away when I met her gaze. I was searching for words to apologize for waking her up, or excuses about some other reason for my tears, but she walked over to me gingerly and sat down at the corner of my wall, almost back to back. She leaned her shoulder into mine and didn't say a word, just offered her presence. It was the best thing anyone could have done for me in that moment.

I was grateful to her but didn't think of myself as her friend, even then. She was being kind and I had nothing to offer her in return, so I assumed it was just how she was. Some people are just better at reaching out. That didn't mean there was any reason for her to be attached to me. But early the next day I was scrubbing the floors in the hallway, a space that seemed to elongate the more I kept going, when I heard shouting around the way. Loud bangs accompanied it and it sounded like Rocket, but I wasn't sure. Maybe she just found a rat, I guessed, but I followed the sound to the kitchen and stepped in, looking around quizzically. On the counter was a recently abandoned, half-eaten sandwich, but I saw no source of the noise until again I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.

The obese cook was bent over something on the floor in the larder, and the muffled protests made me sick to my stomach. Anger propelled me forward as I grabbed the knife at his belt and prodded his neck with it. "Let her go, pig," I told him with a promise, pulling the knife closer. My malice surprised even me. Blood was rushing through my ears as he leaned back and uttered some excuse, but he was laughing. I tugged Rocket up and she spun behind me, and even though she was taller than me I felt the same protectiveness I always felt with my own kin. She shook at my back and I wanted the cook's blood.

But he was huge and I was a prisoner here, and an attack would be foolish. I had gotten her away from him. Since I couldn't change his disgusting mind, that's all that mattered for now. I threw down the knife at his feet and pushed Rocket into motion, and we ran out into the hall, jogging on clicking heels for a few paces before slowing.

I looked back to make sure he wasn't pursuing us, because then I might actually have to confront him for us both. When I turned again, Rocket was laughing breathlessly, nerves and relief and lingering fear all at once, her hand pushed under her bangs.

"Are you okay?" I asked her, knowing she wasn't.

She was brave anyway. "Yeah…Let’s just go." She took off her apron in a hurry. I suspected she didn't want to see that again for a while. "We don't wanna be late."

Again I followed her to the dance studio, and this time Sweet Pea was in the center. The rest of the women were resting against the walls and bars, observing, and in the middle, keeping time, was Madam Gorski. This was the first time I had seen her up close.

She was a little daunting.

She interrupted Sweet Pea's dance and they had a visual standoff while she asked Sweet Pea where her mind was. I wondered what could be distracting her from her dance, but Rocket ignored the conversation and leaned over the water cooler to pour a cup. She must have heard this before. Then again, she was probably still shaken up from her encounter, too.

"Babydoll," Gorski said suddenly, grabbing my attention and making me feel very much in the spotlight. I didn't know she knew the nickname they had given me. I didn't know she even knew who I was yet. Then again, she had the powerful stance of someone who liked to keep informed. “Come over here,” she beckoned to me. “Come, come.”

I walked closer slowly and she used her cane, her time-keeping piece, to stop me. “Let me have a look at you.” She walked around me and I switched to watching her expression in the mirror to keep from turning around. There I saw her glance to the corner of the room, and when I followed her direction, I saw Blue and two of his men settling in between the line of women. Mme. Gorski spoke clearly to the room, and though her behavior changed at their entrance, her voice seemed merely clinical. "You seem fit enough," she noted. "I'm going to play you some music, okay?" Her heels clicked over to the boxy tape player. "Open your heart to it, let it in, and when you're ready," she turned back to me, "I want you to dance."

With some straining, the music kicked in. I took it in as she said, but felt nothing but embarrassment. Everyone's eyes were on me. I was the only one with expectations placed on me in that moment, and I had no idea what to do or even what the point was. I looked around pleadingly and shrank.

Mme. Gorski stared hard at me, shot a sideways look at Blue (who was scowling, I noticed from the mirror), and stepped towards me again. She tapped her cane pointedly and dropped her voice for only me to hear. "If you do not dance, you have no purpose. And we do not keep things here that have…'no purpose.'" At first I was afraid she was punishing me, but I realized with the discretion of her voice, she was warning me instead. She walked around me, keeping her voice quiet and private if not soft, and met my eyes in the mirror several times, when she wasn't looking directly at me. "You see, your fight for survival starts right now. You don't want to be judged?" She shook her head once. "You won't be. You don't think you're strong enough? You _are_." Her voice had such conviction in it that it shook me awake and I breathed deeply. "You're afraid. Don't be. You have all the weapons you need." She was guiding me through this, and it made me wonder how long she had been here herself, and what her circumstances were to know to say these things. 

Her eyes flicked up to meet mine in the reflection once more. "Now, fight."

She pounded her cane on the floor and raised her voice to the rest of the room. "Again!" She strode back to the music player, chancing one glance at Blue whose expression hadn't changed, and started the song again. I swayed a little, feeling the beat thrumming my ears and my breath coursing through my lungs. Mme. Gorski began keeping time, and I focused on that. Rocket believed in me. Gorski believed in me. I wasn't done yet. 

I'm still alive.

Let's see what I can do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so thrilled to have this ready to post. I've been marinating on this story for a long time and I finally have it all planned and written through. I'll post the next chapter within a week, when it's polished and ready to fight. Here's to realizing the great obstacles these women have overcome! And here's to you readers!


	2. Blondie +

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan is formed and I'm not holding my breath, but I don't want to be the only one left behind, either.

I have heard a lot of bad ideas in my life.

At the beginning of the year in sixth grade, my mother pulled me out of school because she couldn't afford to drive me anymore. She thought it would save her money, and she thought it would be a better way to save money than if she quit doing drugs. 

When the bank came to repo her car, she started letting shady guys drive her around. They looked just as strung out as she was. And because I wasn't in school, I was always around to see them. As I grew up, they were always around to see me too. I spent a lot of time out of the house.

Some of the street guys, the younger ones, wanted to take me in. I think they recognized something in the way my eyes looked, wanted to teach me. Among other things, I learned how to punch from them. That wasn't so bad. But there was more to that world, and I fought to balance "experiencing life" with "not turning into my mom." Sometimes I would, sometimes I wouldn't. They were full of bad ideas and I didn't get the appeal.

Mom passed out this one time and one of the guys she'd hang around hadn't gotten his fill, so he stormed through the hallway and found me. I was wearing heels, an old, beat-up pair, but with my eyes closed I felt like something special in them. They didn't seem as special sticking out of his throat. I don't think he died, but I ran so I can't be sure. I know they called me crazy, wanted to lock me up for it as if his actions were my responsibility instead of his. So I ended up in here. A place to hide out, just not a good one. It doesn't matter. I wouldn't get fed anywhere else anyway.

Yeah, I've heard a lot of bad ideas. But the night after Babydoll arrived, I was listening to one of the worst.

"The dance should be more than just titillation," Sweet Pea was saying. She took a lot of pride in her means to survive. I respected her well enough, I'm just not sure if I agreed. "Mine's personal. It says who I am. What the heck does yours say?"

"It says I'm going to escape from here," Babydoll said. Rocket craned her neck to look up at her. "That I'm going to be free."

"Well, send me a postcard from paradise." Sweet Pea went back to her book, although I think she was just pretending. Trying to close off the conversation. We usually looked to her as the boss because she handled things so well, took care of us, but something about the new girl shook up Rocket and Amber, queens of the bleeding hearts, and I could tell big sister didn't like that.

Rocket rolled over with her hands under her head and whispered to Babydoll. "Are you really going to try to escape?" Baby nodded. "Can I come?"

Amber sat up really quick. "Me too!"

Babydoll looked at her with a smile that seemed touched and I almost gagged. "Yeah, of course."

"You're not going anywhere, Rocket," Sweet Pea commanded.

"I'm gonna do what I wanna do." She didn't look at her though, and I've seen this a lot--they fight, but Rocket doesn't want to see her look hurt, so she just doesn't look. It's a head-in-the-sand thing.

"No one’s ever escaped from here. You know that."

"Yeah," I piped up. "You know, the last three girls that tried _died_." I didn't care for the new girl, but she was wrangling my friends, so I had to remind them what they were up against. Besides, I had been there longer than any of them. I'd seen it myself.

“And the same thing’ll happen to the next fool.” 

"Look, why don't you just listen to my plan," Babydoll said, and I got the feeling she hadn't been in a place like this before. Stay here long enough and that youthful optimism will just slide right off. She looked like a pansy to me, a wilting flower that was only upright because she believed in fairytales, stuck up because she had never been any closer to the dirt. Amber felt sorry for her. I stared at her but I just couldn't see it.

"I don't want to hear your plan," Sweet Pea replied. "None of us do." And for the evening that was that.

But the next day in the dressing room, I could tell that Rocket was still daydreaming about the idea of escaping. Another bad one. Amber sits at a vanity behind us but I'm stuck in a row with the sisters, which I don't mind unless they're arguing because I have to hear all of it.

"”What if it’s a good plan?”

“Then she can go through with it. I’m not letting you get hurt," Sweet Pea said, and I could hear her voice break. Oh boy…tears again. This was awkward. "I've kept us safe through a lot of shit--"

"I know you have." I dabbed some gloss onto my lips and tried to tune them out but it just wasn't happening. "I'm not gonna get hurt. I just…can't be here anymore. And if it's a good plan, we're both going."

"No, we’re _not_. You're on your own."

They fell silent for a second and I caught Amber's eye in the mirror. She shook her head and shrugged. Neither of us knew what to do in these situations.

"Y'know, I've been on my own before," Rocket tried, but Sweet Pea scoffed immediately.

"Sure you have. Look where that got us."

Gotta be honest, if these weren't my friends, I would've really enjoyed a comeback like that. Right to the heart.

Rocket sighed and I knew she was hesitating on something, because she usually tries to bite back right away. She's all action like that. "Baby…saved me from the cook the other day."

Oh.

"…What?" Sweet Pea's voice was all pain.

"I was working in the kitchen…and he comes in behind me and pushes me down and he gets on top of me and I can't even move, it’s like…" Again I looked back at Amber, this time with wide eyes, and her hand was covering her mouth. "And there she was, just like that. She had a knife to his throat." Babydoll herself walked in at that moment and I wondered how much she heard. "She saved me."

Now, as long as I've known Sweet Pea, I've picked up some stuff about her. And I'm willing to bet a lot of money that she wishes she had been there. Rocket's a grown girl and can handle herself, but Sweet Pea always, _always_ regrets when she needs her and she isn't there. So the stiff way she sat up and looked level at Babydoll, with Baby staring right back, I could tell it was equal parts spite and gratitude. It was sort of, "How dare you do what I couldn't, but…thank you." Not that she would ever admit that.

I think Babydoll could tell that something had changed, though, because she went to the board and flipped it around, writing in chalk. Amber stood up and leaned against her table, curious, but I was sitting next to Rocket and still felt weird about the whole thing. There's never anything pleasant about feeling that close to losing yourself. I didn't know what to do so I just reached out and rubbed her shoulder, and she nodded her thanks at me.

Babydoll finished what she was writing and set down the chalk, crossing her arms. "The High Roller comes for me in three days, but I'm getting out of here before he does. If you want to come with me, this is how I plan to do it." She looked straight at Sweet Pea, but it wasn't a defiant thing. She was waiting. Patiently. Maybe she's smarter than I thought.

Sweet Pea eyed her and thought for a moment. She looked back at us, maybe to see if we were with her or if we cared about the plan or any sort of morale thing, and considered. I just played with my hair and waited it out. I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of putting myself in harm’s way, but Babydoll had risked herself for a near stranger, so maybe this would be a decent plan. Something we could all get behind. She’d already proven her loyalty. And when Sweet Pea gave the okay, she did it in the most authoritative way possible: "Well?" in a tone like an order.

Babydoll nodded, deferring to her leadership. "Okay." Yeah. Smart girl. "If we can collect all four of these items, we can be free." I glanced at the board and read a list of things that seemed like they'd be dead useful. Map, fire, knife, and key. Vague, but I could see where she was going.

"Okay!" Rocket stood up and walked by Amber. "How do we use 'em?"

"Wait up," Sweet Pea interrupted, standing too and holding her arm in front of her sister, in front of all three of us. "First things first," she slid her finger down the list, "how do you plan on getting these things?"

"Well…whoever has the item we need, we get them to watch me dance."

"While we run around and pick their pockets?" I was glad she had said it. That's another reason I've learned to count on her--she thinks of everything. Baby nodded and Sweet Pea pointed out the problem. "But we'd be taking all the risk. We'd be doing all the work while you prance around with the perfect alibi."

"No, as long as I'm dancing, they won't even know you're there." Maybe this girl was actually insane.

They started talking about where each piece was, and even when Rocket was brave enough to say she'd get the knife from the cook, I stayed out of it. But when Babydoll said, "And the last thing is a key," I knew exactly where we should get it, and spoke up before I could stop myself.

"Blue wears a key around his neck."

Baby's brows pulled together, thoughtful. "What door does it open?"

"It's for all of them, I think," I told her with a smirk. "It's the master key."

"This plan is crazy," Sweet Pea interrupted. "There’s armed guards _everywhere_ , okay, and if Blue finds out, we’re dead! It’s not going to be 'oh, sorry Blue, we won't do it again' because we'll be dead." I heard her…but pointing it out like that just put into perspective how badly we needed to leave. This wasn't a good place to be. And yeah, it's dangerous, but…it might be worth it.

"We're already dead," Rocket replied, shaking her head. That sunk in for a minute.

But then Amber looked elated and chirped, "I'm in!"

"So am I," I choked, surprising myself. My throat was thick with misery. I had had enough of this place too, and before this, leaving felt hopeless. Now it felt ridiculous, but…possible. And if everyone else was going, I didn't want to be left behind.

Sweet Pea had sat on my table, arms across her knees and fingers across her brow. This stress was enough to give anybody a headache. But finally she tossed up her hand. "Alright." A thrill went through us. We’d be doing this together. This was happening! "But if it gets too hairy," she said, looking pointedly at each of us, "if I say it’s over, we stop." I nodded deeply. It made me feel better knowing that she'd be the one calling quits if we needed to. I trusted her judgement. Plus it meant I wouldn't have to be the bad guy if things got bad.

She stood and took the chalk in her hand, looking at Babydoll with newly forged partnership. "I'll get the map," she said, striking through the word.

 

**BONUS SCENE: Sweet Pea**

This idea was terrible. A disaster in the making. And going along with it was even worse…but it looks like I didn't have much choice. New Girl has my sister all inspired, and with or without me she was gonna try it.

Without me would be a lot worse.

That's why I was the one striding down the hallway towards Blue's office while the others were supporting Babydoll's first planned dance. If one of us had to be alone on this mission, I'd much rather it be me, at least until I see it work.

This was so stupid…

I stood in Blue's doorway and knocked on the frame. He and his conversation buddy looked up from their steaks without pausing. 

“What do you want?” He never trusted me--I could tell because he made such a big show about being In Charge when I was around. Before today I'd say he didn't have a reason to be, since the only goal I had was looking out for Rocket. 

Now that we were doing this, maybe he had more reason, but I wouldn't let him see that.

I swallowed my nerves and announced, "She's dancing."

" _Who_ is dancing?" he said around a mouthful of greasy sirloin.

Great. He was being headstrong. I forced myself to relax and ease my body against the frame. "Your baby doll."

They both stood and made their way out of the office, and as Blue closed the door he looked up at me with something calculating across his face. He was scowling again, and he stayed solidly in my space for an uncomfortably long minute, long enough for me to overthink everything we were doing. I'm no idiot; I know how much power he commands over the place. Over us and all of the workers, rations, and weapons inside it. I knew he could kill me, or worse, at the slightest provocation, and that he only had to threaten my sister to do it. And I knew he knew it, too. That's what kept me on eggshells all of the time, and tightrope walking in heels is even more of a struggle.

His height didn't matter. He has an imposing presence and an air that said he had had enough of not getting his way, and would do everything possible to make sure the world opened up for him. He put himself above everyone's happiness, safety, and sense of privacy. Anyone else was reduced to nothing in his eyes. We "respected" him in name only, and only when he was around. Fear doesn't lead to leadership, it just means we do whatever we can to survive, and if anyone ever got the upper hand on his slimy ass, I knew they wouldn't hesitate.

But I was nowhere near that. So for now until who knows when, I had to keep playing right into his deadly game. And as close as he was, as much as he wanted to figure me out and dismantle all the parts, and as much as was riding on my ability to stay calm and alluring, I was a ball of pure anxiety. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I wanted to duck my head, but I couldn't play the victim right now or he'd be suspicious and it'd be all over. I darted my eyes around his face trying to see what he was looking for, what would keep me safe for another minute, and I went for a disarming smile.

He never stopped frowning, but he exhaled and looked forward again, walking off towards the studio. That certainly wasn't admitting he was happy with me, but for the moment I wasn't a threat. All the better. I could breathe easier without that brittle fear in my spine.

I watched him walk down the hallway and turn the corner, and he hadn't looked back for a second. I was grateful he didn't ask if I was going to join them because no excuse would be good enough for him. I waited a few more minutes, just to be sure, and quietly eased inside and shut the door.

His office was usually open when he was in it, so I had seen it before when passing through the hallway, but when it was empty it felt a lot more like a regular room and a lot less like waves of hellfire. Trinkets were on display everywhere, and the desk and pool table made it seem more like a personal recreational space than a business. The copying machine was a big boxy thing that took up most of the floor.

I settled my hand on the copier and glanced up at the expansive map. _You'd better be right, Baby._ And when I reached up to take out the pins, ears straining for any sounds of approach, I wordlessly prayed harder than ever before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I brainstormed ideas for how each girl would get into enough trouble to be sent into an asylum which unfortunately, back in the 60s, wasn't that hard. But since I didn't want to sweep everything under the terrible excuse of "hysterics," I tried to think up what crimes and motives each girl might have encountered. Blondie is not a trusting soul, so I figured she probably had a very rough life outside the Lennox House, and probably had only herself to lean on. The "implied/attempted sexual assault" tag is for her. It's also a bit for Rocket's situation with the cook. I don't think I'll need to touch on it in any other chapters since there's nothing in the dressing room scene at the end for me to analyze again, and I promise I'll never write anything more graphic than that. I know it's disturbing. I promise I will always be very cautious with the use of such content.


	3. Rocket +

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can't let that stop me! Or Blue...or my own sister. She'll come around. Don't tell her I said that, though.

 

 Babydoll finished her dance and grinned wider than I've ever seen her. I was so proud of her, of all of us! Look at us all pulling together!

 

I still hadn't really gotten the chance to thank her, though, so when she knelt by the mirror and pushed her arms into her cardigan I took my shot.

 

"For what?"

 

I mean…is she kidding? I've only known her a little while, who knows what her sense of humor's like. "The cook!"

 

She rounded out her mouth. "It was nothing."

 

"Shut up!" Silly new girl. I had to tell it like it was. "No one takes a risk for _anyone_ in here." Well, except my sister, but I didn't want to give her too much credit. Wasn't that what a sister was supposed to do? And maybe that's where Baby got it from. "You got family?" She said no at the ground and I about kicked myself. "Oh, that's right. I forgot, you're an orphan…" Eugh, I gotta remember that, I'm sure bringing it up doesn't help her any. Maybe if I offered my story, she wouldn't mind so much. "I ran away from mine," I told her, half-smiling. "I thought I was pretty smart at the time, but…Sweet Pea followed, which was crazy because she never even had a real problem with Mom and Dad!"

 

"She just cares about you a lot," Baby murmured. I could see that, so I nodded along. Truth be told my sister was always covering my back. Sometimes it got old that she wouldn't let me go anywhere or experience anything for myself, but…in a place like this it was nice to have her.

 

"Have you ever wanted to just take something back?" I asked Babydoll suddenly. It burst out of me before I could even figure out what I meant, but truly, it wasn't about leaving our parents' house so much as it was not turning back. I was kind of pig-headed that way, and usually it was fine, usually it just meant delaying some apologies or something else I could fix later. "You know, something you said? Something you did?"

 

She nodded and her mind drifted away. "All the time."

 

-

 

Later we were coaching Amber for working with the Mayor, who was another creepy slob who liked to put his mitts all over people, except he also liked to smoke right in her face. A couple of times I saw Amber cough and I almost laughed aloud, but she had been so discreet about it that I didn't want to mess her up. She was nervous about snatching the lighter from him (hadn't she ever nabbed a pack of gum from a general store? Some kids, I swear, no life), but the others were giving her some great ideas so I kept an eye out for eavesdroppers instead.

 

Blondie had given her a great suggestion and it reminded me of something I heard from a classmate at the fancy private school we went to--I think my parents were trying to straighten me out, but obviously money doesn't mean the kids won't still have a little fun--anyway, the girl had had a cigarette and I'd asked her how she'd gotten it, because she was the same age as me and no way did they think she was old enough to smoke. She told me, "Just act like you belong there."

 

Since the Mayor was Amber's client, she already had that part covered. She just had to dig up some guts for the rest.

 

Don't get me wrong, I like Amber a lot. She's sweet and she's up for anything, even snuck out onto the roof with me a few times to check out the stars after a show, but boy is she a goody two-shoes. Any sneaking more hardcore than that and she starts shaking like a baby fawn.

 

But I bet you that'll change today. Something about Babydoll's plan had reignited us.

 

-

 

Amber had to take on the Mayor all by herself, but when she bounced into the dressing room she looked so proud. We all praised her and passed it around, and I just had to say it: "Halfway home!" Babydoll ripped a piece of tape off a roll and stuck it under the big gap beneath Amber's drawer, and we were just clinking glasses together when we were interrupted.

 

"Cheers!" Blue came in, backed by two cronies and raising a glass himself. What a mood-killer. "What are we celebrating, huh? Who should I be congratulating?"

 

"It was just Babydoll's first time on stage," Sweet Pea stuck her neck out with a quick recovery and a small shrug. "You know how scary that can be."

 

"Yeah…" What was up with him all of a sudden? "The bond of the theater!"

 

…Something was wrong.

 

He took a sip and set the lowball glass down. Sure buddy. Put that anywhere, it's not like you have to clean it up. "I mean, what else could it be? It's not like any of you have anything to hide, is it?" he said, voice coated in condescension and weaving between us. "No. It's not like anyone was in my office, stealing my shit." He leaned against my sister it took everything in me not to growl. She just leaned back cooly and he looked at himself in the mirror like the narcissistic little prick he is. What's the matter, boss, can't handle seeing someone's disgust at you? "It's not like people are missing things, y'know, small little objects here and there, no, no." Everyone kind of stood stiffly when he grabbed Amber and wobbled her off balance. She turned away when he exhaled against her face, eyes downcast, locked away. "That would be **outrageous**. That would be crazy!"

 

Blondie was already faltering, I could tell, the poor girl wanted to bolt. So when he started in on her, getting in her face, tears started welling up. "Right? Because we have such an obvious explanation for this exuberence, it's the fraternity of performers, it's the _adrenaline_ from the curtain rising." He reached up and touched her hair, and she flinched. "Maybe this is my fault. Maybe I've just become too familiar with you girls." I was standing right next to her and couldn't tune out her fear if I tried. She had every right. He yanked her onto her toes and her hands flew up he almost had a whole pack of us at his throat, but…what could we do? Now, with nothing but mascara and sequins to counter his henchmen? And a lighter? We could singe one sleeve before we were pummeled. "Maybe I need to make an example of someone, re-establish the parameters of our relationship. " He eyed us like he was rabid. "What do you think? Blondie, girls?" After his threat charade was finished he threw her against the desk because he's a dirtbag.

 

"And what about _you_ ," he said dangerously, pointing to Babydoll, who was…smirking at him? Had she lost her ever-loving mind? "You think you're special don't you? Well, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret: if I was not about to make a small _fortune_ on you with the High Roller, I would…" He stopped himself and licked his lips. In the slimiest way possible. "Y'know, it saddens me that I have to resort to threats with you girls. I thought we were past that. I just…" Then he rolled away from her and took his place between his shiny-jacketed bookends. "I need this bullshit to STOP. Out of MUTUAL RESPECT." Excuse you? Do you even _know_ what that word means? "Let's get things back…to how they were."

 

When he left we all breathed easier. I for one was really glad he didn't start tearing the place apart and found what we had so far, or started actually asking us useful questions. As usual it was just about satisfying his ego and then he left. He was that sort of person, but at least we still had our goodies. There was still a chance if we--

 

"So much for that little experiment," Sweet Pea spoke up.

 

I looked at her with my jaw on the floor. "What are you saying?"

 

"I'm saying it's over. Right, Baby?"

 

"I don't know," Babydoll muttered.

 

"What do you mean, you don't know? Blue's onto us. _We_ had a deal. If I say it's over, it's over."

 

I got in her face. "We're this close though! We can't just stop!" This was so important, couldn't she see?

 

"Did you not hear Blue? He knows we're up to something, he knows what we're doing, and if he catches us for real, it won't be a lecture. You saw him," she said, pointing to Blondie crying with her arms wrapped tight around herself.

 

Babydoll spoke from her shoulder, "Sweet Pea, Rocket is right. The High Roller comes tomorrow. If we can just stick with the plan 'til then--"

 

"NO," she barked at her. "YOU'RE screwed." I just stared at her. I had never felt so different from her before, so unable to understand her. So far from her. "We're out. Rocket?" She looked at me, and her voice wibbled and darkened at the same time. "We're out."

 

I shook my head and stuck out my chin at her. "I'm finishing this. We are all finishing this!" I nodded around the room but I seemed to be the only one with gusto left. "You know it's the only way we can get out of here."

 

And the way Sweet Pea was facing off against me…I felt, for the first time, I might actually be alone. "You're gonna choose her," she spat, sliding her eyes to Babydoll and back, pointing out how new and low and not-family she was, "someone you barely know, over me? After all I've sacrificed for you?"

 

I had no idea how to answer that. How could she take this personally right now? It wasn't even about Baby, it was about all of us! I was trying to make it right! "I'm sorry," I told her, and tears were pooling in both of our eyes and when she turned away I was stunned. She might as well have slapped me.

 

She left and we hovered around our mirrors, tidying up, trying to look unaffected. We avoided each other all the next day too. We had volunteered for kitchen duty, so at almost dinnertime Amber, Babydoll and I headed off that way while Blondie went to get the music player. The three of us moodily started chopping potatoes (for a meal we probably wouldn't eat, since we'd be heading out tonight as soon as we could figure out how to get that key), but I kept wondering how I'd track down my sister, and how I could rub it in her face that I had finally done something right once we had all the items to show her. I wouldn't leave without her.

 

I kept checking the clock and got impatient with that too. Too much waiting around here. And it really shouldn't've taken that long for Blondie, unless something was keeping the machine tied up. I started to worry. "Where the hell is she?" I hissed to Babydoll, who looked up at the clock with me. "We need your music!"

 

I was too busy looking out the round windows to notice the shift in her attitude. "You know what, forget it. It's too late; Sweet Pea was right."

 

_Oh, don't you dare!_ "What are you talking about? The three of us can--"

 

"I don't think we can do this," she interrupts. "I don't wanna do something stupid that's gonna put you guys in danger. I'm sorry." I roll my eyes and let out a deep and angry breath. "Hey, we got this far right? That's something not a lot of people could have done." She drifted off and slowed the peeler, much too somber for my liking. "How bad can the High Roller be, anyway?"

 

Ugh.

 

I ticked through some options. If she wussed out I could still go after the rest of the items somehow, but…the plan sort of hinged on her dancing, on her distracting. If she dropped out of the running, could I handle it myself? I had all this confidence but none of the ideas.

 

But then the door burst open and my sister walked through, walking tall and looking pissed. I was so glad to see her I could've screamed. She stood on the other side of the counter from us and glared us down.

 

"Don't you girls have some work you should be doing?"

 

I smiled my relief and dropped my half-shaven potato in the bucket. "You came to help us."

 

"No. I came to keep you from getting killed."

 

Heh. Same thing.

 

Babydoll thanked her but she bowled over it. "We don't have a lot of time, so if you're done with the pleasantries you got a dance to do." In quick work and Amber they blocked the doors with brooms while we cleared the counter and set up a radio. Sweet Pea tuned it to something entrancing and the cook finally caught on that we were done prepping food.

 

"What the hell are you doin'?"

 

Showtime.

 

 -

 

**BONUS SC ENE: Blondie**

 

-

 

This is way too much, way too much to handle. Having my head jerked around, lifted up…I came here to get away from all that. This isn't the streets! What was he thinking?

 

I knew he was terrible. I'd seen girls disappear and no one ever came looking. But he had never put his _hands_ \--

 

That was too familiar. I'm freaking out. We are his _workers_ , god damn it! Gotta breathe…

 

Nope. I'm choking on my tears already. The cord I was wrapping around the music cart is a complete blur. I'm trying to wipe my face dry but they're coming down faster than I can contain them. I can't stand this. I can't stand _like_ this.

 

I stumble over to the wall and slide down. Everything echoes in this huge room, especially when it's empty, and I don't want anyone outside to hear but I have to take this time for myself. Just…get it together, before we start this whole knife heist.

 

I don't want to go back out there.

 

Sweet Pea was right, this was our warning. This was the only chance we'd get to back down, and we're lucky we even got that. And if she wasn't around, what, we had Our Lady Babydoll to guide us? Fuck that.

 

My head bumps against the wall.

 

The door opens and Madame Gorski pokes her head out, looks down at me, and turns all Mother Hen, getting on my level and asking me what's the matter, and all I can think of is that I got caught and gave something away and _I wasn't supposed to do that_. But her hands are out and gently tapping mine, and she's soothing in a way I've never seen from a grown woman, and I figure this is probably what a mother is supposed to be like.

 

"Clearly," she says pointedly, cutting off my protests, "it is not 'nothing.'" I stilled. "Hey…you can tell me. I am good listener!"

 

"Madame Gorski…" I just…how could she understand? What could she do? "Please…" _Fix this_ , I thought. _Take this from me_.

 

"I know that look," she says, wiping at my face too, pushing my hair back. "You think you are all alone, and that no one can help you." She smiles oddly and I realize this is probably the first time we've spoken alone. She's trying, I guess. "There is a way to fix anything. Now, tell me what is wrong, child."

 

I watch her for a moment and try to think if there's a way this can blow up any more than it has. I can't think of anything, not by me just telling her, asking her advice. So. "Okay." She nods curtly, pleased, her hands comfortingly on my knees. I cover her hands with mine and take a deep breath to steady myself. "Promise you can keep a secret?"

 

"Yes," she says, but right at the same time it comes from someone else, we both heard it, and Blue walks in and my heart sinks. And I must be showing it all over my face because she's looking at me in this wooden, helpless way, hooded eyes, guarded, as he reaches out a hand for us.

 

She can't save me, I can see it in her eyes, in her regret, and I know I can't back out of this. He wouldn't buy that I was crying because I stubbed my toe or that one of the other girls was mean to me, not after the encounter we had just yesterday. He was probably counting on this, I realize that now. So what can I do?

 

I can tell him what I know. I can cover my ass. I can admit to him that what we were doing was dangerous, ask him to understand, confess that I was scared for them…and keep the hiding spot a secret. Pretend I didn't know where we put anything, if he pried.

 

Maybe they'd have a chance even if mine was up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to my lifelong friend, Emma, because I know Rocket's her favorite character and she's been delightfully supportive of me in this endeavor! And anything else that's quiet on the feedback front. I fall into very quiet fandoms, haha. I hope you enjoyed my peek into her mind, buddy!


	4. Amber +

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Atta girl.

I tried my hardest to walk calmly down the hallway, but I kept skipping steps and my arms were rigid no matter what I did. It's always hardest to be yourself when you have to act natural, isn't it? And I still had a shiver and a hiccup from what had just happened with Rocket and everybody.

 

Oh, and poor Sweetpea...If I think about it any longer I know I'm going to start crying again. Must stay composed. We're almost there!

 

Blue found us, busted in on the scene in the kitchen, on Sweetpea clinging to Rocket's last words and everyone tense and broken down, divvied everyone up, and ordered me to take Sweetpea's slot in the show tonight. After everything else, he thought we were still done for. Only I didn't hear him at first, so he had to repeat it, which chilled me to the core-- “Go. Get. Ready.”--so I was.

 

Getting ready for something else entirely, though.

 

As awful as what had transpired, I had hope. I had the knife, tucked carefully under my apron, and we were still the only ones who knew where the other items were!

 

Weren't we? I slowed down for a second without meaning to, and forced myself to shake it off. He must've known we were there because of all the noise. I could only hope that Blondie would think to meet us back at the dressing room like we'd planned, and that the other girls had caught onto the fact that the knife was at my feet, and then it wasn't.

 

I passed Madame Gorski's office and kept my eyes strictly forward, but I heard a sniffle from her and my heart went out to her. Any other time I would've wanted to ask if she was alright, but this was too important. Maybe she would've wanted to come with us? I entertained the thought for a moment, wanted to grab as many people as I could since this had been so difficult to pull off, but...who can be sure she was even ready to leave?

 

I didn't even let myself wonder whose side she was on. It didn't seem right to doubt. It wasn't in my nature. Ever since I was little, I wanted to believe in people, so I did. And most people proved me right, that they had a little goodness in them, or a lot. The people who didn't I just didn't understand. I'm sure they had some reason.

 

That's like when I stole the car for my brother, I just wanted him to have a way to get to work on time, since he was trying so hard to afford food for the both of us. And the people who arrested me, they were just doing their job. They were looking out for the person whose car I stole. All of that made sense.

 

I don't understand Blue, but I'm sure what he's doing makes sense to him, too.

 

Not that that means I'm going to let us stay under his thumb any longer. Just need to get to the dressing room before anyone sees me.

 

But just as I'm thinking that, one of the younger girls spots me in the hallway and calls out to me, trotting up to me with a big smile and worried eyes. I recognize her—Honey, I think they called her—and I think I had helped her fix a stitch on a button before. She's smaller than I am and hasn't quite finished growing up, and she took to me instantly. A wave of guilt knocks the breath out of me as I look down each hallway, but I stop for her anyway.

 

“Hey, Amber! I wanted to thank you again for helping me with my costume the other day, and, um...are you feeling well?” She fidgets with her hair and looks too much like a little kid. I dance a little on my feet impatiently and decide to let my instinct take over. It hasn't steered me wrong yet.

 

I lean close and whisper, “Honey, if there's a diversion tonight...if there's a way you can get out...promise me you'll look out for yourself?”

 

Her eyes widen but she looks more scared than excited. “Get out? Why? What are you going to do?”

 

I didn't have the time I thought she deserved, which frustrated me, but I felt better for trying. “If I tell anyone, it might not work, but trust me, okay?” I gave her a quick hug and started to skip away, time ticking onward leaving me anxious. “Don't be scared! Find someone you can trust to watch your back and just keep running until you're safe, okay?” I was about to turn the corner and probably never see her again. “I believe in you!”

 

Tears pooled in my eyes again as I walked quickly, steadily, straight-backed, and tense. There was too much loss already. I wanted to drag everyone I could out with me—we could storm the gates and get out unharmed, I had wanted to imagine, but Rocket was already dead. Sweetpea was locked away to suffer on her own. I couldn't go any further until I knew those I had come to care for the most were safe.

 

The clicking of my heels made its own beat and my heart pounded along with it. I tried to tiptoe into the dressing room in case anyone else was there, but it was still a couple hours before the show, and the others on schedule were probably heading for the showers instead of the makeup mirrors. 

 

I almost fell over when I saw Blondie curled against herself on the couch, and her head jerked up when I walked in. I was so relieved I ran at her and threw my arms around her, forgetting she's not very affectionate, but this time she hugged me back. “Blondie! I can't believe it, I was so worried--” I pulled back to look at her face, soaked with tears and running makeup, red and chapped everywhere. “Hey, it's okay if you had second thoughts. We got—well, we...”

 

She shook her head but hiccuped so hard she couldn't speak. I bit my lip as I thought of Rocket, but I didn't want to make her feel guilty right away, and thought that was something we could sort out as we made a break for it, or whatever. Most importantly was stashing away what I had looted. “Really, it's okay,” I hushed her, and pulled out the knife tucked under my apron. I felt much less likely to wound myself with that away from me and breathed deeper. “See? We got it. Let me put this away, okay?”

 

“No, you don't--” she hiccuped again. “You don't un'er _stand_...”

 

“Hang on then, you can tell me anything you want in a second.” I yanked out the tape and stuck the knife to the bottom of the drawer with shaking fingers. I closed the drawer and let myself feel strengthened by the fact that I was able to help twice so far.

 

Blondie was at my side, gripping my arm, and her urgency was the first sign that there was something we didn't know. The beginnings of fear crumbled away at my stomach. “Amber...” She pleaded with me.

 

“What happened?” I watched her face closely. “Did someone hurt you?”

 

She sobbed and shook her head again. “No, worse! It's worse than that!”

 

“What could be worse?!”

 

Then Madame Gorski came in with her eyes downcast, guiding a still-shaken Babydoll and trailing other dancers like ducklings. The seamstress came in too, and looked between the three of us very cautiously, like the way you'd look at farm animals and try not to get attached because you know they'll be eaten soon. Gorski patted Blondie on the shoulder and turned to focus on Babydoll, but her touch made Blondie dissolve into a series of sniffles and apologies, and she leaned into me and I couldn't get another word out of her. Was she trying to not give us away to the others? Was she feeling responsible? I couldn't figure out what the problem was. When I taped the knife to the furniture the rest of the contents were there. Unless…

 

Did she mess up the key somehow? That was the only thing we didn't have already. I rubbed her back and murmured to her that it was okay and that we'd figure out another way. We didn't have to have everything. 

 

She just shook her head further into my shoulder and fell to pieces.

 

Then Blue came in.

 

 

\--BONUS: Babydoll--

 

The rest of the evening was a blur of sounds, flinching, rattling breath, and egotistical speeches that went mostly unheard. I couldn't get a grip on anything that was said. I did know that it wasn't healthy. These were exceptionally awful situations and I was starting to think that none of us had placed ourselves here intentionally.

 

So when he threatened Gorski, the one person we thought was safe from him, and Blondie yelled out to stop him...when he shot Amber in the back, after she had tried to appeal to any humanity he had...when he murdered Blondie, as she was forgetting all selfishness and just apologizing to me over and over and  _ it's okay, I forgive you, we all do… _

I was shocked. I had nothing left in me. Nothing left to understand. No energy. No light.

 

Nothing to lose, really.

 

Blue sat next to me dazed and clearly outside himself. He thought he had succeeded in pushing past all limits and boundaries of the law, of morality, of decency, to getting exactly what he wanted, as if he hadn't been doing that the whole time.

 

Maybe this wasn't what he wanted. Maybe he thought this kind of business would be different. Maybe he thought he could play any way he wanted without retaliation.

 

“Come on!” His face was imposing, every cell of his skin and whisp of his breath trying to suffocate the air right out of me with his closeness. Trying to lay claim to another person. “Did you lose your fight? Huh?”

 

“No...” I whispered, fingers trickling down the opened drawer until I could grip the blade's handle, and slowly looked up as my courage grew past my fear. “I just found it.”

 

Wrenching the knife from the tape and driving it into his shoulder was a motion I had practiced in my head to make sure I could follow through with it. So at this point, it had felt familiar. I never intended to kill, even with all the rage and sorrow built up in me from the death of my sister, and of my sisterhood here. I just wanted out. And if he couldn't get that, couldn't respect it, I would demand it from him. Tell him in the only way he would listen: with his own body at risk.

 

“You'll never have me,” I told him, disgust twisting my face. “ _Ever_.”

 

I drew the line for him as he entered into shock, stole the key, and ran for the closet of Sweetpea's darkest hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pay no mind to the dates, please. I'm glad to have finally finished this and I'll be posting it regularly until the end.
> 
> I took the most creative liberties with Amber's chapter, as I felt like she was the character who wanted to reach out to others the most, and we never get to see the in-between of the camera panning down to the knife and when Babydoll gets to use it. I thought that was brilliant for the movie, but I wanted to explore her quick hands a little more, and I thought this gave a good moment for some insight into what we know of her personality as well. I felt like things were a little livelier in the background.
> 
> That, and I couldn't bear to go into any more detail of Blue's terrible actions. Again, great for the movie, but I'm assuming you've seen the movie and can piece it together yourself, so I wanted to explore a different angle.
> 
> Plus, I feel like the blur-to-clarity in Babydoll's portion of this chapter fit what she acted in that scene.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Sweetpea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plan comes to an end...It's now or never.

In the dark, I relived my nightmare and cried in as many ways as I could. Chemical smells gagged me and I retched on stale air and regret. I couldn't move fast enough to keep up with my little sister, I never could, and now my ineptitude had gotten her killed.

 

I had gone in to prevent it, like I had any say in what she had done from the day she was born. And I wouldn't want her to die alone, or without me at her side, but...Dammit, why did I have to see her like that?! With her recklessness I only had jolts of fear and horrid imagination bringing me images like that, of her wounded, torn to shreds, compacted with every type of pain I had heard of. But to see it doubled me over in pain and heartache.

 

I couldn't get my sister back, and if she was still cold on the floor of that filthy kitchen I swore I'd tear Blue to pieces. I couldn't think past that to what he might do, even though I knew I should think of something. I should be trying to get out. But now we both knew he didn't have a thing to hold against me. I figured he'd try to keep me running his precious show, even with the light out of my eyes, because why else would he keep me here at all? Lord knows I'd do anything to protect my sister, I'd break my teeth off on the knuckles of a goon any size, but without that chance to save her…

 

I felt like I had powered down. You know when you have the flu and nothing you do helps, and you feel drained and heavy and like even the smallest task is impossible? Or maybe pointless? If everything was ruined and we'd never get out _and_ I couldn't have my sister, that's the exact word for it. Pointless. 

 

And I couldn't even blame Babydoll, as much as I'd like to, because I know Rocket would've tried herself sooner or later. I adapted to things, that's what I did, just like I had adapted to this life she had dragged us out of the house to find because she had wanted to chose her course so badly, to get out from our parents' rules and expectations. I had adapted to what they wanted, and then to what Rocket wanted, and then to what Blue wanted, just for the chance to stay close to her. She couldn't adapt. She was always flitting from one place to the next like a goddamned bumblebee and I was the one trying to make it work wherever we landed.

 

But I had wanted to. I had wanted so badly to let her know she mattered, that someone cared about her until the bitter end. And now the thought of being without her, just because I was stupid enough to miss that the cook was starting to get out of his daze…

 

And what would've happened after that, even if she hadn't dove in front of me? When Blue had come in, and everything hit the fan? I had  _known_ better and still I let this continue. How could I?!

 

I had no idea how long had passed between now and Blue saying the monstrous things he had. I knew better than to let him get to me too, had fortified myself against anything he said, the insults he slung and the blame he tried to place, but I already blamed myself. And whatever happens after this can't compare to the pain and the guilt I'm feeling right now.

 

But suddenly, there's a jingle at the door and it's swinging open and I look up, confused, at the light. It's Babydoll. And just like that, I get a second chance, like she's some sort of sworn-in angel dropped down from a fighter jet to pull me through.

 

But something's wrong. I expected the rush, and even her tears and her blotched makeup, and I won't even question the key but she's alone and I have to ask, “Where's Amber and Blondie?”

 

“It's just us now. We have to go, Sweetpea, come on,” and it hits me that they must've taken the brunt of whatever punishment we would've received and the fact that Baby even got out at all is an utter _miracle_ , I saw the way Blue acted around her and she could've made a break for it but she came for me anyway, but _I_ _knew these girls_ and they deserved better. I turned away and wanted everything to go differently, but what's done is done and I can't pray it back. Babydoll is dragging my arm and pulling me to my feet, out of my mourning, keeping me moving, let's go, let's go.

 

She soaks a cloth in the sink, stuffs it in one of the bottles and lights it, dashing it against the far wall. Tears are still blinding me but I dash them away to keep going. She takes my lead on the map, trusts me. It makes sense, we've been through these hallways before, and it all fits. We are stopped by the first gate, crouching low to stay under the windows, urging the door to work, the plan to work. My calves are burning. Finally the alarm goes off and it pops open, and Babydoll pulls it open at the same speed it would've if it swung off the frame itself, and no one is any wiser. We wind our way through the corridors, low to the ground, and everyone is focused so much on the rest of the chaos and no one finds us.

 

I know we're lucky. I know it wasn't supposed to happen this way. I would still rather be pushing our luck with the other three at our side.

 

We unlock the last door and find ourselves at the entrance, at the grand staircase winding its way along the walls, and take the steps as quickly and quietly as possible.

 

We are outside, and the air is cool and wet and so refreshing it brings new tears to my eyes. But there is another obstacle, something we didn't account for, couldn't possibly have planned against. All the people that arrive at the shows, the men who make nasty comments and purse their lips and grab at anything they see, they pull in here. This is the driveway. This is also our road. And the gate is shut tight behind a full dozen of them.

 

Babydoll and I duck behind neatly trimmed hedges and I can't see any way out. Do we wait? But if someone were to look out the tower windows now, we'd be caught in an instant. We can't bolt, they'd see us right away and there'd go our undercover getaway. I look to Babydoll, and see that now-familiar calculating look in her eyes, mingling with the same urgency and frustration I'm feeling. She's come up with something before...she'll do it again. I wait and my lips part but I hold back from saying anything, from interrupting.

 

“One thing more.” She's talking herself through it and something dawns on her. “One thing more...It's me.” I can't begin to decipher what she's saying so I just wait for the plan. It's coming, I know it. When she turns to me I'll be ready. Except what she says doesn't make sense. “Of course it's me, it has to be.”

 

“What are you saying?” I can't be hearing her right.

 

“I'm saying you go home. Go home to your family, and tell your mom what Rocket said; make her happy.” I want so badly to deny it, but she's so sure, and try as I might I can't think of anything, and nothing else is coming together. There's just enough luck left for one. “Go and live a normal life. Love, and be free.” It sounds so blissful, so near. “You have to live for all of us now.” She says it like a fact.

 

“Baby... _no_.” Doesn't she realize how much loss we've experienced already? More would cripple me. “You can't do that--!”

 

“ _Yes_ , Sweetpea, it's okay.” She believes in me more than I believe in myself. “You're the strongest! You're the only one of us that ever had a chance out there. You going home and living, that's how we win.” My face twists again as I realize she's not backing down, and I haven't finished watching people get hurt tonight. She opens my hand and presses the key into it, then starts to back away. “Now listen: I'm gonna walk out there, and when they come after me you **go**.” 

 

I can't leave without trying once more to make her reconsider. I don't want to go alone, not when it was her plan that got me out to begin with. “There's gotta be another way.” 

 

“No. This is right. This was never my story. It's yours! Now don't screw it up, okay?”

 

I nod and cry harder, my heart reaching out to her in gratitude and renewed friendship. She stands, continues, and I figure the next thing she says was part of her plan all along, what she came up with while the rest of us were sleeping. “Stay off the roads and find a bus station, alright? You're gonna be fine.” And before I can say anything, she turns, clad in brilliant white and shimmering stones, and marches down the steps.

 

I know I don't have much time, so I stoop below the bushes and run to the side, sticking near the wall. Still I watch to see when would be the best time to escape, and I offer her a moment of silence for her sacrifice, and in her own way, a victory.

 

Her confidence stride and direct gaze has everyone's attention, and I slip behind unnoticed in my darker clothes, heels on the grass instead of clicking on pavement. I make it to the gate, unlock it with held breath, and make it to the other side without even a shout in my direction. I close the gate and look back at her, looking so peaceful, so resolute, that I know there could be no other way.

 

And with that, I escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, at the culmination of all their efforts. I don't feel I did justice to Babydoll's pep talk (gets me EVERY time), but it is very dialogue-heavy and much better acted than it is written here, I think.
> 
> There's more to come. I have something special together for the final chapter, something unexpected, something completely different from the movie. And as a bonus feature, I plan on posting some of my personal notes and thoughts about the movie, these characters, and my tweaks or additions or backstories, which are no more than my own imagination. If you're interested in that, please stick around, and thanks for reading thus far!


	6. Vera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reports are filed and journal entries are written in the aftermath.

April 25th, 10:48 p.m.

 

If it had been anyone but my patients, I would not have believed them. But these are girls who have suffered endlessly at the hands and minds of men outside this place, and when they arrive here, I want them to receive better care. I want them to heal.

 

It's the reason I became a doctor in the first place. Even more than that, being a survivor of such atrocity is what helps me help them. And now to hear that this has been going on without my knowledge, for goodness knows how long...it's enough to make a grown woman sick. To make me tremble. To make me furious.

 

If my background in psychology had not prepared me for self-soothing, I don't know what else I would have said. Thankfully the officers who hauled that orderly out of the building had more respect than he did.

 

The small pack of girls had developed nicknames for themselves. They became impossibly close in a week and flocked to each other like lights in the darkness. The one they call Babydoll hadn't spoken a word to me since she arrived, but the tragedy in her eyes pleaded with me and shouted with everyone else. They looked up to her for her drive, and she had planned quite the caper. What a mind she had hidden beneath that turmoil…

 

“Had” being the operative word. I must be more cautious with whom I hire in the future. But who can expect forged signatures? Perhaps I can insist on only verbal consent from here on out. I cannot blame the doctor who performed the task. My mixed feelings are not his.

 

She looks peaceful...but so disturbingly absent. For such a sharp mind to be lost rather than given the chance to recover, to regain her place in society after so much has befallen her, it goes against everything I strive for. I want to reach these young women. I want to give them the chance that society denies them.

 

The one they called Blondie (ironically, with black hair) came to me for a session out of turn, and I of course allowed it, but I should have picked up on her behavior when that orderly walked in the room. Excuse me, the ex-orderly—that convict. I shall not refer to him by name or by stature henceforth in my personal documents. To do so would give too much respect to someone so despicable.

 

I have reservations about the system of law and punishment in this country, but people of that caliber should certainly be detained from their victims. Indeed, I am awake and at work so late tonight to ensure that I have said and done all I can. To that end, his case will get him exactly what he deserves. It is my responsibility, after all, to make sure my workers take responsibility for their actions.

 

I will try not to blame myself, but at this juncture my guilt overwhelms me. I felt as though I almost had their trust, and in one week, or even one night, so much has been shattered. When I come back to work on Monday, I will need to be vigilant to the needs of these women, and guard myself from these feelings as well. I cannot let this deter me from treating them professionally and effectively.

 

But for the weekend...it will be a long and private journey.

 

One final note: a few hours ago, at the end of daylight and the start of all this mess, I witnessed from my office window the escape of one of the group—the one called Sweetpea, as I learned by process of elimination. Fearing for her wellbeing so soon after the kitchen accident that claimed her sister, to my shame, I sent out a search party to look for her. I'm glad I had the foresight to call the police rather than send out our own; everyone who works here must now be cross-examined for potential scheming. Goodness, my own barriers of trust will need to be rebuilt as well.

 

But after the rest of the situation became clear...well, let's just say that while I would feel more comfortable releasing them myself, after knowing they are better-adjusted and suited to life on their own again...I cannot blame her for running, and deep down I am confident she will be fine.

 

If any of them can make it out there, it's that one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it.
> 
> I've thoroughly enjoyed writing this, and I hope you've enjoyed reading it. Please leave a comment if you have any; that's always encouraged for any writing you enjoy, as I promise you that can make a writer's day!
> 
> I was thinking of posting some notes on my choices and feelings for each chapter--I read that in a fanfic for an entirely different series before and found it really interesting--so if that's the sort of thing you might like, be sure to check back soon!
> 
> And remember, you have all the weapons you need.....Now fight.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so thrilled to have this ready to post. I've been marinating on this story for a long time and I finally have it all planned and written through. I'll post the next chapter within a week, when it's polished and ready to fight. Here's to realizing the great obstacles these women have overcome! And here's to you readers!


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